Happiness
by that one username
Summary: You, fresh out of a broken relationship, happen to literally stumble across a very drunken albino hottie, causing your heart to take a turn you weren't expecting and leading you in a new direction. But the question is: is it for better or for worse? A Prussia x Reader fic. My apologies for the bad summary!


**Hello everyone! Thanks for checking out my story!**

 **This is my first character x reader story, so go easy on me please! It turned out better than expected, but eh, I don't know. I'll let you guys be the judge!**

 **I apologize for any grammatical errors.**

 **And of course, enjoy!**

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You took in a shuddering breath as you pulled your leather jacket closer to your body, hoping to gain some warmth. Frost clung to the trees and grass like crystals and the air had turned bitter cold. You began to regret the decision to choose style over warmth and comfort as you made your way down the busy nighttime streets. You stopped on the sidewalk and glanced around at the shops and taverns surrounding you. Everything looked the same, so mediocre and dull, nothing eye-catching in sight. If it were a better, more normal night with your friends, things might have been more interesting. But not tonight. No, tonight you were alone, in more ways than one. A dark tavern across the street suddenly caught your eye. A neon sign vivaciously flashed the words "Jack's Tavern" as if its life depended on it. It looked dank and dirty, and the name didn't seem to imply otherwise.

Before you knew what you were doing you found your legs carrying you across the street until you were standing in front of the window. Apparently your brain seemed to believe in the phrase 'listen to your heart'; at this moment your heart was a distraught wreck, and it felt like the equivalent of one half of your OTP dying. In other words, you felt like you had been through hell and back. You had caught your boyfriend cheating on you earlier, and you had made an embarrassing scene of the split-up in public.

Just thinking back to the day's happenings made your heart hurt, so with a resigned sigh you opened the door to the ragged tavern, figuring that the best solution was to drown out your feelings for as long as alcohol permitted. Just as you stepped inside, someone rammed into you, nearly knocking you over. Your temper flared but you were too shocked to spit out a proper insult. You turned to see a drunken man, beer bottle still in hand, loom out onto the street. He must be the asshole, you thought to yourself with venom. The man had hair so blond that it almost appeared white, and his eyes were so dark brown that they nearly gleamed crimson. He looked to be in his early twenties, possibly the same age as you. He was laughing like a mental institute inhabitant and pointing at random passersby who tried not to look at him.

Sighing in frustration you walked into the loud tavern and plopped down at the bar. Ordering the strongest drink on the menu, you found yourself staring out the window at the wild display still taking place in the streets. By now he was picking a fight with the street lamp. He aimed a swing at his inanimate opponent but missed. A couple of college guys stopped and pulled out cell-phones to film the brawl. The bartender slammed the drink down in front of you, jarring you back to reality. Grabbing the drink quickly, you took a swig of the concoction and nearly spit it back up. It tasted like a combination of rum and cherry cough medicine.

You wrinkled up your nose in disgust and pushed it as far away from you as you could manage. Yelling noises coming from outside caused you to whip your head around to peer outside. The college boys had stopped laughing and were now in a challenge stance with the albino drunk, resembling a dog baring its teeth at a kitten. Although the albino seemed confident and his ego was clearly reassuring him of his abilities, you could tell he that he didn't stand a chance. Even though he nearly knocked you flat on you ass earlier, you couldn't help but feel a surge of pity for him.

He abruptly turned around at the same time a car was rounding the corner. Before you knew what you were doing, your legs were making decisions for you again and had locked you in a dash for the door. You ran outside and jerked him to a stop by the collar of his jacket. "What the hell are you thinking?" you asked, panting, still trying to catch your breath.

He grinned at you stupidly before answering. "What do you _think_ I was doing?" I was crossing the road." His voice was heavily tainted by an accent that you couldn't recognize, and it was evident that he was not from the streets of New York.

"Oh really? It looked like you were about to carry out a death wish," you answered sarcastically. "You can't even walk straight."

From the close proximity you could clearly see the sharp contours of his cheekbones and the toned muscles of his chest and arms. At this angle you could see that his eyes were indeed a crimson color that appeared lazy and unfocused in his drunken state.

"That doesn't matter. Someone as awesome as me doesn't have to walk straight," he slurred.

You rolled your eyes in disbelief. "Look Mr. Egotistical, you got in a fight with a streetlamp _and_ with those college dweebs back there," you said, motioning to the boys still behind you, "so I think you can drop the act."

He did nothing but shake his head and laugh again. That laugh- that laugh that sounded so ridiculous- was enough to make you blush. _That's stupid to feel like that,_ you scolded yourself. _Especially after what happened earlier today. You clearly haven't learned that you can't trust boys, yet._

You swallowed past the sudden lump in your throat and continued. "Look, I don't know why I'm helping you, you certainly seem to think that you've gotten things under control, but for whatever reason, I _am_ helping you. So where do you live?"

"Why would you want to know? Are you a pervert or something? Are you gonna," he paused and leaned in closer to you- so close that you could feel his breath against your neck as he lowered his voice and whispered, "do dirty things to me?"

"No!" You quickly protested, pulling away from him, blushing brighter than a tomato in summertime. "No, you're sick for thinking that!"

He moved back so that his head was resting on your shoulder. "Oh really? You know you want this," he muttered, motioning to himself.

"I'm not some sex obsessed animal, I was asking because if you died out here by rambling through the road and there was a chance that I could have helped you, then that will be on my conscience for the rest of my life. And I'm not going to let myself suffer, so fess up." You explained indignantly, pointing your chin up.

"Well if you must know, love, my address is 428 Street Avenue, apartment number 5."

You nodded and began to speak, but then paused as you remembered that you forgot to pay the bartender for the ghastly drink. "I'll be right back. Stay right here."

You ran inside but not before hearing him yell, "Yes master!" behind you. Flinging money onto the counter, you say in a rushed hurry, "Lay off the cheap cough medicine next time!" before rushing back outside, completely unaware of the confused state of the bartender.

As commanded, he was in the same spot as before. "I did what I was told," he said, flashing the same toothy grin that made your heart skip a beat.

"Well at least you're not completely unreliable," you muttered as you motioned for a taxi. Almost immediately a cab pulled up and you recited the address to his place.

On the way there you found out five things: (1) His name was Gilbert Beilschmidt, (2) He's from Germany, which explained the unusually hilarious accent, although he argued in his favor that he was a true Prussian, (3) He was 23, which was the same age as you, 4) You two actually had more things in common than you had previously thought, which included a mutual love for soccer and anything cute, and lastly, (5) You had fallen head over heels in love.

Everything about him entranced you; the crimson eyes that smiled along with his flirty grins and the strange laugh that erupted all too often from his pale lips, his seemingly white hair that shone in the light and caught your eye every time he moved. It made the phrase 'love at first sight' almost seem true. _Almost_ true. It didn't seem right that you had found someone else that made you feel this way, that made you feel better than you had previously felt, so soon. Did experiencing all of that shame and hurt teach you nothing? But no matter how many times that you tried to convince yourself that your mind was just tired and wasn't thinking straight, the feelings still found a way to evade your heart, and you came to terms with the fact that they would not leave you alone.

The driver came to a stop in front of a set of apartments. After paying him, you crossed over to the other side of the cab, assisting his too-drunk-to-properly-walk-straight self into his apartment. "You're just like an old person," you muttered, laughing.

He ignored you and continued to ramble on. "You should see my pet, Gilbird. You'd love him…"

You shook your head in mock disapproval. "Doesn't that name remind you of a certain stupid someone?" You asked, jabbing him in the side teasingly.

"No, it reminds me of the awesome me!" he retorted, grinning bigger than ever.

Once you both reached his apartment, and once Gilbert finished fumbling in his pockets for the right key, he unlocked the door and you both stepped inside. The heat was a pleasant change from the biting chill of the outside world, and you openly welcomed it. He gently took your jacket, and you gasped slightly from surprise. You weren't expecting such close contact and his touch caught you off guard. His fingers lingered on your arm, and he turned you to face him. He gazed at you with an unreadable expression, and he tilted your chin upward so that you were looking straight at him.

By now your heart was beating as rapidly as the turning blades of a helicopter, and you could no longer tell if you were still breathing. But was this really what you wanted? You barely knew Gilbert, yet he was making you feel a plethora of exciting emotions, so could this really be such a bad thing…? Before you could make up your mind he was leaning forward with closed eyes, and you followed his lead.

The faint scent of mint and beer lingered on him, but none of that mattered. What mattered was this moment, this unexpected moment that was perfectly timed. Nothing mattered except for the precise second that your lips met his, and the spark that you felt afterwards. You lost track of time in the rhythm of his lips and the perfect feeling of this moment.

It eventually turned into something more, a vicious fight for dominance. Gilbert's kisses became rougher as the passion between the both of you increased, and you kissed back even harder. He led you to his bed and you flopped backward on top of it, but you didn't care where you were at; you could have been on a table top and you still wouldn't have cared. You were too absorbed in him and the way his body moved against yours to give a damn for anything else.

The night continued until it exploded into something more magical than the entire galaxy combined, and the last thing you remembered before drifting to sleep enveloped in his arms was the fact that you had finally, _truly_ felt happy for the first time in your life. When you awoke the next morning, the first thing you realized was that someone was playing with your hair. You quickly sprung up in confusion but breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that it was Gilbert.

"Good morning, beautiful," he said softly, gently smiling that smile that could melt the whole world over.

"Uh, hi," you said awkwardly, unsure of how else to respond. You turned to leave but felt his hand encircle your wrist.

"Don't leave," he protested like a whiny little kid.

You blushed and rolled your eyes. "See? You're too dependant on others," you complained, settling back down in his embrace.

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple. "But isn't that a good thing in your case?"

"For you, it is. You're lucky I'm so nice," you said, kissing him back, as if that explained your actions. But you knew that you would gladly stay and do anything for him, regardless of whether he asked or not.

"Well, I always _was_ a ladies man," he said in that joking voice of his, once again inflating that already over-sized ego of his.

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 **What did you guys think? Too OOC? Not really that good? Please let me know what you thought of it! Feedback is always appreciated. I want to know what I can do to improve!**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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